


it feels more like a memory

by halfabreath



Series: like a beat without a melody [2]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Depression, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 08:31:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13096326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfabreath/pseuds/halfabreath
Summary: Most of the time -- really, honestly, truthfully, most of the time Holster's okay.





	it feels more like a memory

**Author's Note:**

> trying some things stylistically. read the tags. title from Hamilton, because of course it is.

Sometimes -- 

and only some times, not every day or even every week or month but sometimes -- a thought creeps in, takes hold, attaches itself to the back of Holster's mind and burrows deep until he can find some way to bury it again. They come and go at random, striking swiftly with murmurs of balance and quiet, telling him he could feel different, better, forever if he just gives in.

Most of the time --

really, honestly, truthfully, most of the time Holster's okay. He's good. He would describe his average level of happiness and general contentment to be a seven out of ten and yeah, it dips to a six or five when he thinks about graduating or they lose a game or he puts his foot in his mouth but those are all normal things. Normal people feel down about those things and it's nice, it's so nice, to track the cause and effect of his emotions. He feels things for a reason, mostly, and he feels them in proportion to the event he's responding to. 

But sometimes -- 

Holster will be lacing his skates and all at once the soft inside of his wrist is so close to the blade and it would be so easy to take off the metal and angle it just right and it seems like it would feel so nice to just -- 

Holster finishes lacing his skates and when he steps onto the ice the blades cut into the hard surface below so smoothly he sometimes thinks  _it would be so easy_. But that's only sometimes. Most of the time, Holster ties his skate laces on autopilot, hands sure and swift as he gears up. 

Most of the time -- 

Holster has fun. He laughs and sings and skates and wrestles and runs and studies and plays Mario Kart for hours and watches tv and -- the list goes on. 

But sometimes -- 

The laugh is fake and the singing is forced and when he wrestles he hopes Jack might make a mistake and hurt him, really, really hurt him and he runs until his lungs are burning and he has to fight for breath because he has to remind himself that he wants the air in his lungs and he can't bring himself to study because it doesn't  _matter_  what he knows or doesn't know when he's not even going to graduate and he plays video games and watches Bob Ross for hours and hours just to have something to focus on that isn't him and -- 

But most of the time, Holster has fun. 

And sometimes -- when the thoughts creep in, when the whispers he buried deep slip out of the traps he's laid for them, when they say, step in front of that car, the train's coming and if you just lean forward, go into deeper water and wait for the current, turn your steering wheel just a little to the left so you'll hit that tree and it'll be done, it'll be over before you know it, if you try it'll be so  _easy._

Sometimes Holster thinks the worst part of being ready to die is the  _waiting._  He knows he won't do it, he's made promises and progress; he's lived with this for too long to give up now. He has dreams to realize and people to care for and kegsters to plan and a degree to earn and he  _knows,_  he knows he won't do anything to hurt himself but sometimes --

When the thoughts come, when a whispered idea slithers into his mind, when he's tired and defenseless and  _ready,_  fuck, he realized he was ready to die at sixteen years old and that's not something you can ever take back, but when the thoughts come -- 

Every time he says, _fuck off._


End file.
